I try to sleep in......but it doesn't work. The dogs know what time it is and where they are supposed to be and why don't I hear them? Well, I do hear them....and if I get up for one...well, the whole household gets up. So......I get up....let them out, feed them......drink a quick cup of coffee and I am on the road.......to the barn, listening to James Taylor sing "Fire and Rain".
Did I mention it is STILL raining? Honestly.....enough is enough. I am sure every reservoir in the state must be full by now.
I throw hay and then clean stalls, then paddocks.....they are wet and the piles are heavy. I remove my jacket due to the resulting sweat. I forgot a hat, so I rummage in the barn and find one of those plastic grocery bags.....voila...I have a hat. I am praying no one comes up to the barn and sees me with a plastic bag on my head. I laugh at the thought....but seriously......a plastic bag is on my head.
I finish up and go to my truck to leave and Mary V. shows up to help.......I explain that I need to run home and shower, then come back to take Beaver to the vet and I leave her to Ollie and Max's paddock. She did NOT see the plastic bag.
I run home, shower, put clean clothes on and go back to the barn.
I figure I am going to take Vinnie to the vet to, just to have him checked out. So, I go and get him, take a hay bag, hang it and load Vinnie. He loads like an old trooper. I shut the divider on him and go back to the barn for Beaver.
Beaver is not sure he wants to go anywhere.
He bites me.
I halter him anyway.
I lead him towards the barn and he gets the idea that he might be getting food and so he drags me into the barn as he starts rummaging for any sort of treat, hay or grain. I pull him up shorter and lead him through the barn.
Just outside the barn is a bowl of chicken food. I am shortly transported to that bowl by a short and stout pony....who just barely gets a bite of it before I over power him.
I break a small sweat and my clean clothes are not clean anymore.
I drag him down to the trailer and he is suspicious.
I open the door and he gets right in ........he wants to see Vinnie.
He sticks his nose through the divider slats and bites Vinnie.
Okay, I cannot tie Beaver that close to Vinnie.
I hold Beaver's lead while I contemplate the best course of action.
My shoulder hurts.
Beaver reaches under the divider and bites Vinnie on the leg.
Vinnie screams and kicks.
I consider tying Beaver in the very back...but the tie is high and I am afraid he could hang himself.
I consider that might not be a bad thing.....just for a fleeting second.
Beaver makes a break for the divider.
I grab him before he reaches Vinnie.
ummm.......okay. Vinnie must not go today.......
Vinnie goes back to the barn.
Beaver is loaded loose in the trailer and he starts screaming.
I hit the road.
It doesn't end there.
We get to the vet. I go to the trailer door and there is Beaver's face and he is ready to get out. I snap a lead on him and he LEAPS way out of the trailer.
Part of the leap is designed to allow him to get away from me or pull me where he is headed. I use both arms and pull him up. I tell him to behave himself.
Now both of my shoulders hurt. I shake it off.
He trots along beside me and up into the clinic.
The vet remarks how cute he is and just as she pats him, he tries to bite her.
I tell her to be careful.
He swings to kick at her and I push him back.
I tell her that, honestly, he will kick.
Her old golden retriever enters the clinic......
Did I mention that Beaver hates dogs?
He tries to bite the dog.
I pull him back.
The dog is old and doesn't see well, she continues to wag her tail and approach him.......I tell her no, no....don't come over here.
She sits next to me and Beaver flexes his neck to get to her.
I move him.
He gets examined.......he doesn't like it.
She says he is fat.
I say I know.
She says he is cute and should have a job.....
I say I know...but who would have him?
She says "someone who wants a cart pony?"
I just laugh...and then laugh again.
anyway, Beaver has a cough....due to dust mostly likely......and so now he has cough syrup....and he must eat timothy pellets in a mush. His lungs are clear, his heart is good (well, it sounds good) and so off we go.........towards home.
I trot back to the trailer with him. ..(not my idea) and he gets in. I shut the door and we drive home.......he drags me back into the barn......and I drag him back out of it and into his paddock.
I handle BIG horses every day and this little pony is a bugger........he can drag me anywhere.....he is strong and willful......so I must lend more credit to the big horses attitudes and behaviors......they WANT to get along.......they WANT to behave.
Ponies are not horses. They are devils in small horse suits.
Pony Up fortune for tomorrow:
You will recieve a great blessing from a person you admire.